Behind The Mask
by fagandhag
Summary: The Halliwell family has grown and endured for years. The Charmed Ones find themselves in an idyllic life with their children and grandchildren until one of their grandchildren is kidnapped. It's a race against time to keep the Halliwell lineage intact.
1. The Boogey Man

The Boogey Man

It was the end to a perfect day: mid-spring, sunny afternoon, a cool breeze coming in from the ocean. The park was filled with children, families and excited dogs. Picnics littered the grass as families enjoyed the perfect day out. Children played hopscotch on the walkways, their parents none too far away with their watchful eyes. She always envied these parents who had little more to worry about than their children wandering out of sight. She always had to worry about more.

As time wore on and her watchful eyes passed from her children to her grandchildren, she took some ease in knowing that there were more than one set of eyes. She enjoyed spoiling her grandchildren, in giving them small comforts she never could with her children. Her children were better for it and the world she paved for them better for it but she always regretted not being able to allow them to be children for as long as they could. She knew all too well what destiny lay before them and she wanted them ready for it. Now that they've come into their own she overcompensates with her grandchildren and loves it.

Each of her three children had three children (a family tradition, it would seem, that began with her and her siblings). Her youngest, a daughter, had her children first followed by her sons; the eldest having his children last. The grandchildren ranged in age from eighteen years to 9 months. Each child held a special place in her heart. When each was old enough she began a tradition of taking them individually to the park once a month for special one on one time. In this way she could bond with each of her grandchildren individually and grant them her undivided attention.

Today she brought her granddaughter Jodie, her daughter's youngest. Jodie was a mere seven years old but already was coming into her own within the family tree. She was head fast, quick witted and resourceful. In many ways she looked at her young granddaughter as the splitting image of her sister Phoebe. Walking hand in hand around the park brought great joy into her heart. The sun beamed down on them as the wind threw their walnut and silver toned hair towards the sky.

"Grand?" Jodie asked.

"What is it my dear?"

"Have you ever seen the Boogey Man?" the little child asked.

She looked down at her young granddaughter, her brown doe eyes imploring some wisdom from her 'Grand'. Though it had been decades, she remembered being just as young asking her own Grand such questions. From time to time she still did. Jodie knew nothing of the Underworld nor the demons it housed. Though she had read the Book of Shadows, her family's tome of the occult, she was carefully watched and guided into reading only about good magic.

"I've seen my fair share, dear. Have you ever seen the Boogey Man?"

"He's standing over there," Jodie replied.

Following the path of her granddaughters outstretched arm, she looked to the horizon and saw a masked figure staring at them. She had faced many foes before but something about this figure seemed familiar and menacing.

"Stay behind me Jodie," Piper said to her granddaughter.

"Aunt Paige said the Boogey Man only comes out at night," Jodie said.

"Did Aunt Paige say that?" she tersely replied.

"Yeah, she said he lived in the basement and was a shadow."

"That wasn't the Boogey Man," Piper said, "That was the Woogey."

The masked figure stood by a large old tree. It was dressed entirely in black save for its mask which was white. Holes for the eyes were cut out but otherwise the mask was intact and in the form of a human face, expressionless. Piper thought to confront whoever it was but she didn't dare expose her magic in public or risk Jodie's life.

"Have you seen the Boogey Man before today?" Piper asked Jodie.

"Grand, I'm scared," Jodie said.

"It's alright dear. Please pay close attention though. Have you seen the Boogey Man before today? It's terribly important."

"Grand, I've seen him everyday this week. He waves at me when I see him and I think he wants me to go with him but Mommy said never to talk to strangers," Jodie said.

It was Saturday and Piper realized that whoever hid behind the mask had been stalking her granddaughter for six days. She knew she couldn't let him get away with an opportunity to lure her at a later day. She had to act now.

"Ok Jodie, I want you to listen to me," Piper said, "I want you to stay in this spot right here, do you understand me? I'm going to go over to the Boogey Man and tell him now to follow you anymore, Ok?"

Jodie nodded her head. Piper felt hesitant in leaving her granddaughter's side but she had to stop the masked figure. Piper reasoned at most Jodie would be fifty feet away from her and well within eye sight and ear shot. If need be she could always freeze the scene.

Piper slowly crept toward the tree that the figure hid behind, all the way looking behind her shoulder to keep an eye on Jodie. As she neared her steps grew softer. She hadn't gone after demons and such in years. When she finally got to the tree, she stepped around the trunk to find nothing.

Peering at the spot she was sure to find someone was nothing. She took a step back and looked towards Jodie. Jodie stood there, fifty feet away, with a questioning look on her face.

Before Piper could even ask herself what had happened the masked figure lept behind Jodie. Jodie screamed as it took a hold of her by the waist and shimmered out.

"Jodie!" Piper screamed.


	2. A Day at the Beach

Phoebe stretched out her hamstrings on the deck of her two story beach house. She and Coop had decided shortly after their third child was born that they needed to find a bigger place to live. After months of searching, they finally fell in love with Stinson Beach. It was about 15 miles outside of the city, far enough to seem like a whole other world yet close enough to still be with her sisters. The quiet town was perfect for their needs. Everyone was friendly and everyone minded their business.

The beach was perfect for Phoebe. The private beaches provided her with a safe place to jog in the mornings, and to relax in the afternoons. She was nearing 66 years old, but she maintained a healthy lifestyle. At her last physical, her doctor told her that she had the body of a 30 year old. She laughed when the young doctor told her that, and teased him that she was a happily married woman. He was right though, she was in excellent shape. Her hair was just starting to turn gray. Her skin was still pulled taught against her muscular arms and legs. She ran every morning, followed by pilates on the beach, and then she worked on her martial art forms for about an hour. It was a daily ritual, and it kept her young.

From the deck of her two story home she could see miles in any direction. She always caught her breath when she looked on to see the beauty of the California mountains that were to the north of her home. She was especially taken with them in the summertime, when the peaks were green and full of life. She could sit for hours and stare to the west for hours as she looked on at the ocean. The white capped waves pounded on the shore constantly which soothed her. White sand stretched as far as the eye could see, and wild birds flew lazily in circles. It was almost as if she were living in a movie and often wondered to herself when she would wake up from this dream.

She and Coop had just celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary that past month, but she still remembered their wedding day as if it were yesterday. It was hard to believe that she now had three daughters of her own, not to mention 8 grandchildren and one more on the way. Despite her age, Phoebe still felt vigor of youth.

Coop came out into the morning sunlight and smiled at his wife. Her beauty always took his breath away. He handed her a glass of tomato juice and motioned for her to sit down. She accepted the offer and smiled down at her youngest daughter, Patty. She was spending the weekend with them while her husband was gone on business and was now playing on the beach with her children, Dakota and Alexis. The glow of pregnancy surrounded Patty. Her sun kissed skin was golden and healthy, her long chestnut hair shone in the sunlight, and her green eyes sparkled with happiness. Phoebe smiled down at the scene and absorbed it all.

"Who is that?" Coop asked Phoebe.

"Who is who?" Phoebe asked her husband.

"That man over there watching Patty and the girls." Coop replied pointing toward a man with his back to them.

"It's probably just Michael," she replied referring to her son in law.

"Michael is out of town, remember?" Coop replied with a little bit of worry lacing his words.

Phoebe tensed as the words that Coop spoke sunk in. Michael was out of town and wasn't expected back for two more days. Their house was in a gated community, the beaches private, and nobody could get in without a visitors pass. Though it was possible that the person could be a neighbor or a guest of a neighbor, Phoebe doubted it.

As if he could sense that he was being watched, the figure turned to look at Phoebe and Coop. He was dressed entirely in black, and there was no expression on his masked face at all. He stood there staring at them for a moment and Phoebe felt her bones chill. The figure boldly waved at Phoebe and Coop.

"Patty!" Phoebe yelled. "Get the kids up here, NOW!"

Patty turned, a half smile frozen on her face. Quickly, she pulled her children close to her as she locked eyes with the masked man. He pointed at her and started walking slowly toward them. Patty raised her hands, ready to throw him away with telekinesis if she needed to.

"Stay back," she ordered. "Don't force me to do something you'll regret."

Phoebe watched the scene in slow motion. She was too far to get to them on time, yet close enough to watch in horror as her daughter got attacked with her grandchildren at her side.

"Coop," Phoebe said. "Get down there!"

Phoebe jumped up and rushed down the stairs of the deck that led to the beach. She felt as if her legs were made of lead, and her heart was pounding out of her chest. Coop had materialized in front of Patty and the children, but the masked man was inching closer showing no fear.

"Coop!" Phoebe yelled. "Get the kids out of there!"

Coop took a hold of Dakota and Alexis's shoulders and disappeared with the familiar sparkle of pink and silver orbs. Patty stood on guard, waiting to see what the mans next move would be. Still, he inched closer at a steady pace toward her. Phoebe ran faster, hoping that she could get to them on time.

"Throw him," Phoebe screamed at her daughter. "Use your powers and throw him, dammit!"

Patty reached down into the core of her body and summoned all the strength that she could. She pulled her arms over her head and forced an invisible wall of energy at the assailant. He flew ten feet backward with his arms flailing wildly, but he landed on his feet. He stood looking at her for only a moment, and then broke out into a run toward her.

"Hey!" Phoebe shouted. Patty had closed the gap between them when she had thrown him backwards. The man hadn't seemed to notice until Phoebe made her presence known. He stopped running toward Patty and turned to face the other witch.

"Who are you?" Phoebe asked him trying to catch her breath. "And what do you want?"

The man looked from Phoebe to Patty as if trying to decide who he wanted to take on first. Quickly, he charged at Phoebe. She jumped out of the way just in time and grabbed a hold of his arm. Using her years of martial arts training, she flipped him over and he landed on his back with a thud. He wrenched his arm out of her grasp and rolled over onto his hands and knees as he attempted to get up.

"Oh no you don't," Phoebe said as she kicked him in the ribs. "You're not going anywhere!"

She reached down and grabbed a hold of his collar and pulled him to his feet. Rage was pulsing through her body as she reached for his mask. How dare these demons come to her home and threaten her offspring. It had been years since she had fought a demon, but the familiar rush that had always filled her gut was present.

Phoebe caught her breath as the shock of a premonition took over. Her grandniece, Jodi, was locked in a dungeon somewhere. She sat on the floor against a stone wall, her long hair matted and dirty. Her face was stained with tears and she clutched a bundle tight in her arms. Three more masked men walked into the little cell and pointed down to her. Jodi shook her head violently, tears openly pouring down her face. One of the men reached down and snatched what turned out to be a newborn baby and it screamed out in protest. Suddenly he flew across the little room and slammed against the wall. The baby went flying through the air, but Jodi rushed forward and caught the baby. Outraged, the two remaining men went to a corner in the cell. They pulled a woman up by the hair and looked deeply into her eyes. Patty hatefully matched their gaze, and then she erupted into flames leaving only a burned smudge where she once was.

"What did you do?" Phoebe asked between her teeth as she came out of her premonition and looked hard at the masked stranger. The only response that she got was laughter ringing in her ears before he shimmered out of her grasp.


	3. One by One

1She had tossed and turned all night. Lately she hadn't been sleeping well as her mind wandered to the future. Her husband had recently retired so his presence home all day long took some getting used to. She adored watching her grandchildren alone while her children worked and she was secretly jealous of how excited the grandchildren were to play with their grandfather.

Other matters pressed on her mind. Two months ago her brother in law passed away. He was always in perfect health, in fact the family was as a whole, so it came as a surprise when he didn't wake from his nap. The coroner labeled it a heart attack. Her sister wasn't the same without him; none of them were. He had always been a beacon for them, a pillar of strength to draw from. Her sister lived for him and she feared without him she wouldn't endure long. Piper had always been a fighter but death was something she always had a hard time dealing with.

"Henry?" Paige asked.

"Yeah, babe," he replied.

"Henry, I can't sleep," she said.

Henry rolled over and turned away from Paige. She was so proud of him when he was finally promoted to an inspector that the time he spent on cases meant little to her. Now that he was retired she thought he might put those skills toward his family. Or not.

"Henry,"

"Yeah, Paige?" he asked.

"If I can't sleep neither can you," she responded.

With a thump to the ground Paige had gotten off of bed, turned on all the lights and pulled the sheets from off of the bed. Henry lay there in a fetal position, his arms drawn up to his head to block the light. Looking down at him, Paige wondered what had happened to the tough cop she married.

"Henry, if you don't get up right now I'll orb you to a jail cell," Paige threatened.

"That wasn't funny last time," Henry barked.

He finally got up out of bed. His retirement had been tough on him too. For the first time in years he felt he wasn't making a difference. His work as a Parole Office had been some of the most rewarding of his career. He took pride in seeing his parolees move on to better things. Concurrently his wife worked as a whitelighter, guiding future beacons of good. In a sense he felt that they both worked in similar positions and that their work was rewarding.

When he was promoted to Inspector his duty became more akin as to what his wife and sisters did together; detective work to catch a perpetrator. That their work involved Demons mattered little to him in that they both had the same mission: to make this world a safer place. Whether he liked it or not, his marriage was based on the similarities of their work, of their shared purpose. Now that he was retired he felt more of a burden to her. There were missteps; they weren't in sync. Somehow they were merely going through the motions rather then enjoying life together. They somehow got into a rut.

"Do you think the boys are ok?" Paige asked.

"Is that why you woke me up?" Henry replied.

Paige shook her head. Lately living with Henry had become unbearable. Now that he was retired she felt suffocated by his constant presence. She found even the most mundane task he would want to take part in and she yearned for some independence. When she wasn't dying to get away from him she found herself wanting to get closer to him but he would become distant at those times. She wanted to share her fears and her worries with him but he always caught her before she began, telling her it was foolish to linger on such things. Her biggest worry was the state of her marriage. She knew they couldn't go on much longer in their present course. Something had to give.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She felt unattractive in her age and knew that feeling would grow as her skin sagged more and the wrinkles turned to creases. She couldn't help dying her hair black as in her youth; she loathed the gray that it had become. Paige used makeup to cover the blemishes, dark circles and age spots. The older she got the heavier the makeup became. She allowed one physical representation of her true age in a streak of white hair that emanated from her hairline and followed the part of her long hair. She loved the dramatic flair of it.

Their children had fallen on rough times as of late and most of her worry lay with them. Henry Jr. had finally secured a divorce from his wife. She wasn't a bad woman but she came to the realization that she didn't have the stomach for a witch's life. Henry Jr. had secured custody of their three children and they stayed in an apartment on the other side of town.

The twins she worried about the most. Emily had lost her job and her husband's barely kept them afloat. Add to that the needs of two teenaged sons and a prepubescent daughter; they were barely making ends meet. Elizabeth had just ceased a relationship with an abusive boyfriend. Once his blows strayed from her cheeks to her three boys, Elizabeth sent the bastard flying out the front door. Paige and Henry opened their home to Elizabeth and their grandsons.

"Henry," Paige started, "I'm just worried about them. I'm worried that the boys will get the wrong impression about relationships and I'm worried Elizabeth might swear them off forever. What if they can't sleep at night? What if-"

"-Paige, we can't worry about the 'what ifs', you know this. Our grandsons are good boys and there are more than enough good men in this family to set a good example for them. Your daughter is an amazing mother; I don't think you should question her parenting."

"I'm not questioning her parenting, I'm questioning her desire to move on. I know she's kicking herself about the whole situation and I'm afraid she's bearing too much of the burden. I wish you would show some concern about where I'm coming from," Paige said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Henry replied defensively.

Before they could raise their voiced they heard Elizabeth screaming at the end of the hall. Paige and Henry ran down the hallway as quickly as they could. They entered the guest bedroom to find it empty. As they questioned the whereabouts of their daughter they heard her screams coming from across the hall in the old nursery where the boys slept.

Henry and Paige ran in to find Elizabeth cowering in the far corner bed with her two youngest boys, Clint and Brent, behind her. Before them stood a tall masked figured dressed in black. His mask was white and expressionless save for the eyes, which pierced with such intensity at the whole of Paige. Wrapped in this intruder's arms was their 15 year old grandson Terrence. The look of fright on Terrence's face sent fear and rage coursing through Paige.

The masked intruder held an athame to the boy's throat, seesawing it back and forth across his taut skin. Paige couldn't bear the thought of seeing her grandson's throat slit before her eyes so without thinking she orbed the athame away from the intruder's hands and into her own. The intruder pulled Terrence's body closer to his own and stared into Paige's eyes.

"Tsk tsk," the intruder growled in a deep baritone voice.

Elizabeth saw an opportunity to throw the intruder's balance off and give her son an opportunity to escape. As he stared at Paige and taunted her, Elizabeth crouched low on the bed and got her legs into a position that would allow her to jump high onto the intruder's back. As she jumped, the masked intruder shimmered out with her son. She fell onto the floor with tears streaming down her face.


	4. Family Meeting

Family Meeting

"Did you find anything?" Phoebe asked over her shoulder as she poured steaming hot coffee into three teacups.

Paige shook her head in defeat as she flipped through the pages of the Book of Shadows for the tenth time. Piper sat opposite her youngest sister silently staring at her hands while Phoebe tried desperately to keep her cool for the sake of her siblings.

"There is nothing in here about these masked whatever they are things," Paige muttered as she went back to the first page.

"Obviously," Piper told her. "We've put most of those entries in that book and I know we've never run into them before."

"What about the boys?" Phoebe asked Piper. "Do they have any clue what they could be?"

"If they knew do you think we'd all be sitting here at 3 o'clock in the morning trying to figure it out?" Piper spat.

"Hey," Phoebe said. "I'm just batting around some ideas. I'm just as scared as you two are. Just because he wasn't able to take Patty doesn't mean that he won't come back!"

The sisters all looked in different directions. Tensions were high in the Haliwell Manor, and they knew not to step on each others toes. Decades ago, they worked together as a team fighting with one another for a common goal. They knew that if they lost the battle they would lose each other, and nothing scared them more until now. However, much more was at stake than simply losing another sister.

"I still don't understand why they went for our grandchildren and your daughter," Paige said doubtfully.

"Yeah…" Phoebe said quietly. She hadn't left Patty's side since the incident on the beach. She immediately took her daughter and grandchildren to the manor, only to meet with a hysterical Piper in the driveway. Phoebe was horrified to find out that Jodi had been taken, thankful that Patty hadn't, and unwilling to let Patty know what she had seen in her premonition.

"Are Patty and the kids sleeping?" Phoebe asked.

"I sure hope so," Piper answered. "Why?"

"Well," Phoebe said as she sat down. "There was more to my little run in with that thing that I told you guys earlier."

"What?" Paige asked sitting up.

Phoebe played with her cuticles. She didn't want to tell them what she had seen, but it seemed imperative that she did. Even with the entire family working together to get the children back and defeat this new evil, time was certainly against them. It made her sick to her stomach to think about what she had seen, and the thought of saying it out loud disgusted her.

"When I grabbed him, I had a premonition." She said quietly.

"Of what?" Piper asked.

"I saw Jodi locked in a little cell. Patty was on a cot behind her, and she had just given birth to the baby. When Patty tried to save herself and the children, they vaporized her."

The silence in the room was deafening. Piper and Paige could only imagine the horror that was pulsing through Phoebes being all day as the image of her daughter being killed ran through her mind. To top it all off, Patty was due at the end of that month, and they knew that they only had a few weeks to save her.

"Oh my God," Piper said reaching out for her sisters hand.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Paige asked feeling guilty for not having more sympathy for Patty's experience.

"I didn't want to scare Patty any more than necessary. She was with us all day, and besides the Alexis and Dakota were in and out all evening, and they didn't need to hear that their Mommy might get killed in a couple weeks."

"She's not going to be killed Phoebe!" Piper said firmly. "You've always had premonitions so that we can stop it before it happens. We'll stop them, we'll save your daughter and all of our grandchildren."

"I wish Leo were here," Paige blurted. "He always knew what to do. He always found the answers for us."

"I do too," a mans voice said from behind them.

"Wyatt!" Piper exclaimed jumping up. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear about Aunt Phoebe's premonition." He told his mother as he leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"You look exhausted," Phoebe told him. She looked her nephew over. He had grown into a good man, with strong morals and a pure soul. He ran his fingers through his blond hair and looked with a silent sigh in his blue eyes.

"Chris and I have been orbing all over the planet and all through the underworld looking for leads. But it's not me that you have to worry about. Prue has been casting every spell that she can find in the books at Magic School since Jodi was taken. She's like a crazy woman."

"What about Elizabeth and the boys?" Paige asked.

"Elizabeth is fine, all things considered." Wyatt told her. "They boys were sleeping last time I checked in on everyone."

"Did you find anything out?" Piper asked hopefully.

"There's talk in the underworld about a new cult that's rising, but none of the demons are too worried about it. They're all saying that they're not powerful enough to do much. It's a long shot, but Chris and I were thinking that might be why they're taking magical kids."

"Like, to steal their powers?" Paige asked. "That seems so cliché don't you think?"

"I just don't know," Wyatt replied with resignation in his voice. "But it's the best that we can come up with."

"We've got to do better than that," Phoebe said. "We have to save my daughter!"

"We will, Sweetie." Paige said patting her hand. "We will."

"Grammy?" a sweet little voice said from the other room. "Grammy!"

"Alexis?" Phoebe called as she went into the foyer. "Honey, why are you out of bed? It's late, you should be asleep."

"I had a bad dream Grammy, and I want to sleep with Mommy."

"Okay, baby. Mommy is in the room right next to the one that you were sleeping in. Just go crawl into bed with her."

"No," Alexis told her. "Mommy isn't in there."

"Well," Phoebe said, trying to control her panic. "Did you check the bathroom?"

"She's not up here, Grammy." Alexis said, her green eyes filling with tears. "The man took her."


	5. Something in the Air

She laid the candles out before her. The scent of sage permeated the room, cleansing and blessing the space. She picked up a green candle, lit it and placed it right before her at the northern pinnacle which represented the Earth. Next she picked up a yellow candle, lit it and placed it to her right at the eastern point which represented the Air. She picked up a red candle, stood up, turned around and place it on the southern point which represented Fire. At the western point, which represented Water, she lit and placed a blue candle. Finally she lit and placed two candles in the center, a black and white one. The black candle absorbed negative energy and the white candle promoted positive energy. With the circle cast she was ready to summon the spirit.

"Hear these words, hear my cry; spirit from the other side-"

"Mother, why are you wasting our time with this?" Prue asked Piper.

Prue, Piper's youngest daughter, was lured upstairs to the attic by the sage scent. Piper had named her after her older sister. Her aunt had been long deceased but she always felt a responsibility to live up to the witch that she was. It was Prue's daughter Jodi that had first been kidnapped and secretly she blamed her mother for what happened. Prue loved her mother immensely but couldn't comprehend how she could leave Jodi alone in the park while she chased a demon. Prue didn't dare share her thoughts with anyone else in the family; she knew that to do so would tear her family apart. Prue would, however, question any action she felt her mother did that would waste precious time in finding her daughter. Contacting dead spirits in the attic was on the top of her list.

"Prue, your Great-Grandmother may have fought this Demon. Don't underestimate Grams, she was a powerful witch," Piper said.

"It wasn't my Grams I was underestimating," muttered Prue.

"Excuse me?" Piper questioned.

"Just get on with it!" Prue cried, "We're wasting valuable time right now."

Piper could tell that Prue's confidence in her was shaken. While her sons had always confided in their mother, Prue had always kept Piper at arm's length. Even in Prue's youth she was independent and strong. If someone bothered her, she took care of it. If she needed something, she would find a way to get it. Piper felt that, even from the womb, her daughter never really needed her. Piper was afraid that this situation would be all the prompting that Prue would need to cut her out of her life.

"Ok," Piper sighed, "Hear my words, hear my cry; spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the great divide.

A trail of orbs descended from the ceiling and cascaded down to the floor. It twisted up tightly and a bright light emitted from the coalesced form. The light flickered and dimmed as the orbs trailed up and exited through the attic ceiling. In the light's wake, in a translucency that seemed to grow more solid with each passing second, stood the spirit of someone the Charmed Ones had not seen in almost forty years.

"Prue?" Piper asked.

"Piper don't cry," Spirit Prue implored.

"What do you mean 'don't cry'? I haven't laid eyes on you in almost forty years! Where's Grams? I was calling for Grams. I can't believe you're here!" Piper said.

Prue, Phoebe's daughter, took a step back to capture an image of her namesake. Her aunt looked exactly like her photos; poised, confident and young. She felt connected to her Aunt, though this was their first meeting. She had been told stories about how fearless, ambitious and determined her aunt had been. The image she held in her mind was that of a warrior of sorts, a woman to be reckoned with. She wanted to be independent much like her aunt had been.

Prue's admiration as a child towards her Aunt Prue inspired her to climb the corporate ladder. Her stint as an Ad Executive lead to her opening her own Public Relations firm. Her success spilled over towards her family when she revamped her mother's restaurant, Halliwell's, changing it from a quaint family dine-in to the city's premiere hot spot. Her work kept her afloat through two failed marriages and single parenthood. When her father, Leo, died it was work that she turned to. She often wondered if she compared to her namesake and this was her opportunity to find out.

"Grams isn't here because Grams can't help you," Prue said to Piper, "That doesn't matter, though. I need you to listen to me carefully. The whole family is in danger."

"What do you mean?" Prue asked Spirit Prue.

"Prue, this I my daughter Prue. I guess you can guess who I named her after," Piper said.

"I know your family, Piper. They're my family. I'm always watching over them; all of our ancestors do. That's part of the reason our family has thrived and prospered. On a subconscious level the ancestors have been guiding their descendents."

"Well, I guess someone's been sleeping on the job because lately we haven't been doing so well," Piper said.

"Actually, someone's been kidnapping our ancestors," Spirit Prue said, "Which is partly why Grams isn't here with you,"

"Was Grams caught?" Piper asked.

"No, she's laying low. So is Mom and Grams' mother," Spirit Prue said.

"Shouldn't you be lying low too?" Prue asked Spirit Prue.

"That's the funny thing with spirits, the longer you've been in the ethereal plane the more influential you are. In a way, the longer you're a ghost the more powerful you are. Since I've been deceased the shortest amount of time I'm less of a target than Mom or Grams are. It's also why our influence over the family has waned so much. We haven't been dead long enough to really break through to you all. I'm afraid you're all alone now."

"You're our gut instincts," Prue said to her mother and aunt, "You, the ancestors, are what gives us those gut feelings. We're flying blind now, aren't we?"

"Honey, don't worry," Piper cooed to her daughter.

"Mom! You don't understand. I can't think a situation out like Wyatt and Chris can. I've always relied on my gut instincts to lead me to where I'm supposed to go. Whether it's been professional or wiccan I've always relied on it." Prue cried.

"Prue," Piper said to the apparition before her, "Who is doing all of this? Why are they taking our children, our grandchildren?"

"I don't know Piper," Spirit Prue said, "Something about it all is familiar but I can't place it. Whoever it is knows an awful lot about this family. I'm sure they're also behind the kidnapping of the family spirits. Methodically they're breaking us down. You all need to be careful. You need to rely on your greatest strength: your love for each other. Don't let the ties that bind unravel."

As they spoke, an ominous shadow appeared on the attic wall nearest Spirit Prue. At first it danced with the flickering of the candles' flames but it slowly moved toward the ceiling where it could move out of sight. Once there it moved closer towards Spirit Prue. As it inched closer and closer the candles danced more rapidly until they were wildly flickering.

The Halliwells noticed the flickering but thought nothing of it at first. As it increased a chill crept into the room. The temperature dropped 30° as a low howl came from the ceiling. Suddenly the windows in the attic popped open and gusts of wind coursed through the room. The candles barely kept lit as the shadow gathered itself in preparation of attacking Spirit Prue.

"I have to go!" cried Spirit Prue, "That's what kidnapped our ancestors!"

"Help me close the circle," Piper cried to her daughter.

Piper ran to the table in the center of the attic where a small cauldron was centered and various bottled herbs were stored. She threw some dried sage in the cauldron, lit a match and caught the sage on fire. Piper and Prue ran to the circle and blew the candles out, beginning with the western point and moving counterclockwise.

"Be careful and blessed be," said Spirit Prue.

Piper and Prue then blew out the center candles. Before the shadow could attack Spirit Prue it ascended and was sucked into the ceiling. Prue disintegrated into hundreds of tiny orbs that spiraled from the floor to the ceiling in a radiant stream. Once the last orb had ascended the temperature in the attic returned to normal and the gusts that coursed through the room vanished. Wafts of smoke rose from the candles and the cauldron as the scent of sage once again permeated the room. Piper and Prue were left standing in the middle of the room wondering what action to take next.


	6. Loneliness

**Loneliness**

He stood alone in a dark cavern, shrouded by the darkness. His dark eyes stared intently on a stream of water that leaked steadily out of the cave walls. The chill in the air surrounded him and he pulled his long cloak closer around his shoulders. His army grew in numbers, and his powers strengthened with each victory over the Haliwell sisters, but these were merely minor triumphs compared to what he had in store for the witches.

For years he had watched and studied them. He calculated every failure and success that they had over their many years as the Charmed Ones. He knew of the demons that had tried to destroy them, he knew of their mistakes and of the mighty Power of Three. He knew their strengths, but more importantly he knew their weaknesses. He had the upper hand, they had no idea who he was or that he was coming for them.

This plan of his was a bold one; going after the ancestors and descendants of the mighty sisters. Nobody had ever done it before, but that is how he knew it would work. He knew that each step had to be executed perfectly or he would surely meet his doom and be banished to the wastelands; a fate worse than death.

"You failed in recovering the eldest sister," he stated to one of his minions that entered the cave with him.

"Yes, my Lord." He replied.

"She had time to warn them?"

"Yes, but she didn't know what was happening or who was behind it." The minion replied.

"Well, that's good," he replied. "However, I don't deal well with incompetence."

"I know, My Lord." The minion answered. "I know what must be done."

"Sad, really." He said. "I saw so much of myself in you."

"Thank you, Lord."

"Away with you then," he said calmly. In a bright flash the minion erupted into flames and burned to a pile of ash on the ground.

He sighed and pulled the cloak closer to him. The vanquish offered a moment of warmth in the cold underground cavern, but once it was gone the chill went through him once more. He turned on his heel, kicking the pile of ashes on his way out, and walked down a long corridor lit by wood burning torches. The smell nauseated him, but he comforted himself in knowing that it would all soon be over, and he could once again return to walking among the living.

He navigated his way through the labyrinth of underground tunnels. The maze was nothing to him, and he walked with the self assured stride of a leader. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, hiding all but his mouth, as he descended deeper underground to the dungeon. He wanted to peek in on his living trophies, the ones that would eventually lead him to his ultimate conquest over the sisters.

"Leave me," he told a group of guards.

They shuffled out of the way without saying a word. They knew never to question him, and that he was supreme in his orders.

"Why are you doing this?" a woman shrieked from behind the bars. "What could possibly possess you to keep small children and a pregnant woman here? What do you want from us?"

"I don't want anything from you," he replied calmly. "It's your aunts and mother that I want young Patty."

"Only a true coward would use defenseless children and a pregnant woman as bait," she spat at him.

"I'm not using you as bait," he answered smiling down at her pregnant belly. "You and the little ones will serve their purpose."

Patty instinctively put her hands protectively over her large stomach. "I'll die before I let you touch my baby."

"Careful what you wish for," he told her coolly. "Speaking of the baby, how are you feeling today? The time is coming soon isn't it?"

"Go to Hell," she seethed.

"I've been there," he answered laughing. "They kicked me out. Enough with the pleasantries though. I brought you something."

"I don't want anything from you!" she told him.

"Either way, you're getting it."

He reached inside of his cloak and pulled out a crystal jar topped with a thick wax like substance. An orb circled around inside of it, slamming against the glass as if it were trying to escape. The brightness that came from inside the container was so bright that Patty had to shield her eyes from the light.

"What is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"Why use that tone with me?" he asked. "Have I ever done anything to make you mistrust me? I mean, besides the kidnapping and all?"

"I asked you what it was!" she replied.

"It's a spirit," he answered.

"A spirit?" she asked, somewhat confused.

"Yes, it's a spirit of one of your ancestors. I'm not quite sure which one, but that's what it is none the less."

"And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with the spirit of an unknown ancestor?"

"For one, she'll make a lovely bedside lamp." He replied sarcastically. "And for two, she will help you with the birth of your child."

"Okay… and who's to say that she won't fly back to Heaven or appear to my mom to let her know where I am?"

"I suppose she could if you release her before the time comes for the baby to come," he replied. "The only problem is, if you do her spirit will be lost here in the Underworld and would probably die off before she could find her way back to your living relatives. Oh, and there's the tiny little issue of you trying to give birth by yourself…. Oh, and I would just have her recaptured and put back into the jar before she could get that far."

"You are an evil man," Patty told him as she realized he was right. "You're pure evil!"

"I've been told that more than once," he laughed. He put the jar on the ground by his feet and turned to walk away.

"Wait," Patty cried out. "Please, don't leave me. I… I'm so lonely. I know that I'm hateful and mean, but please, just… I'm scared. I can sense good in you, I can tell that a part of you cares. If you didn't care you wouldn't leave me this spirit to help me. Just… don't go."

Tears were filling her eyes and she couldn't figure out why. She hated this man, this abductor of innocent children, but she didn't want him to leave. She needed him to stay close to her for as long as she could manage.

He paused, his back turned to her and he listened to her plea. For a moment he considered staying with her for a few more minutes, but he knew that it would be wrong. There was no way he would be led off course by a beautiful human, nor fall for the tricks of a witch.

"Please!" she cried as he walked into the darkness, leaving her alone to weep.


	7. Miss Kitty

1She pulled her chestnut hair back and peered at herself in the mirror. She had thick beautiful hair that crept past her shoulders. Pulled back away from her face, it made her look twelve years old and that was not the look she was going for. Her hand released her hair and as it fell forward she tossed it with a few shakes of her head. The smoky eye makeup and the deep red lipstick finished the look that she was going for tonight: wild.

The corset she was wearing tonight was black vinyl and laced up the front. It was a size smaller than her frame so the gaps between the lacing would be more prominent; she loved to show a little more skin than necessary when she was on stage. In addition to the corset she sported skin tight black vinyl pants and black vinyl boots with three-inch heels. Looking at herself in the mirror she was quite pleased with what she saw reflecting back. A book nerd by day transformed into a rock goddess by night.

There was something wrong, an element missing from the whole. She bent down beneath the counter and picked up her bag. As her hands searched through the bag she mused to herself that she may as well have her grandmother's lofty handbag for all the things she carried herself. At last she found the shiny object she was searching for. Out of her bag and onto her right arm she slid a silver arm bracelet. Up to her bicep it went and where the points met they turned into an elaborate working of a triquetra. Wearing this, a symbol of her family heritage, was the closest she'd ever come to embracing it.

"Kit, we're ready," a young man said as he poked into her dressing room.

"Ok, I'll be right out," Kit replied.

Kit left her dressing room and sped down the narrow hallway towards the stage. She peered through the side stage curtains to size up the crowd. The club was packed. One of the things she loved about living in London was the virtual guarantee of a packed club for her band to perform in. Her band, Erotica, played a mixture of electronica and rock. They had played together for three years but only within the past few months had they sparked any real interest. The music was dark, brooding and sensual. Kit's onstage persona was that of a dominatrix; she teased the crowd during her performances. The band took to the stage and Kit headed for the mic upstage. She cradled the mic in her hand and straddled the mic stand between her legs. Kit fed off the energy of the newer, larger crowd and they off her.

"Are you ready?" Kit whispered into the mic.

"Yes!" the crowd roared back.

"I said 'Are you ready?'!" Kit shouted into the mic.

"Yesss!" the crowd cheered back.

"I'm Miss Kitty and allow me to take you back. To rock you back. To and fro. Here I go. Are you ready?" Kit sang.

Erotica performed a good two hour set. Their shows were always high energy with some theatrics involved. 'Miss Kitty' engaged the crowd like few performers could. Kit knew what the audience wanted from her and she always delivered. She coyly teased the crowd, using the mic and its stand as characters when the show turned more theater than concert. Kit's voice spoke more than sang to the music but it was the entertaining and not the singing that she aimed for. She danced provocatively, engaging a pole at stage left when she deemed to thrill the crowd. Despite her troubles with her family and her past, and her inability to reconcile them and integrate them into the woman she wanted to be, she reluctantly used what had been passed down to her to read the crowds she performed to.

Kit and the band departed the stage for some celebratory time with fans. After awhile Kit excused and secluded herself to her dressing room. She freshened herself up with a quick shower to cool down and wash away the sweat that soaked her clothes. Though the vinyl clothing looked amazing, it did little in breath ability. Robed in white terry cloth with a white towel on her head, Kit reapplied her makeup so that she could return to the festivities in the club.

Kit reentered the club dressed in black satin pants that hugged her legs, black heels and a long sleeved black lace top with a floral pattern that fit snugly to her waist then dropped to floor with two slits on the sides that came up to her waist. Confident in herself and her body, she simply wore a black bra underneath her revealing top. Every male eye turned towards her and she wouldn't have had it any other way. Maneuvering through the crowd and the eyes that undressed her she finally made it to the bar. She ordered a lemon drop, a martini glass filled with lemon flavored vodka with a squeeze of lemon and a sugar rim around the glass. Sipping her drink she surveyed the room. Her band mates clung to their groupies like wolves preparing for slaughter; she knew she wouldn't see much of them that night. For a brief moment the thoughts of those around her permeated her own but she fought hard to keep them out, as she always had done.

Sipping her drink, Kit's mind wandered to her past of where she'd been and how far she'd come. She was happy as a young child, born and raised in San Francisco on the West Coast of the United States. Kit's father was an orphan but her mother had a large family. Kit was the first of a new generation in that family and as such she was treated like royalty. She was always told she was special and gifted but as a young girl Kit never really understood what they meant. Kit was soon joined in the 'new generation' by cousins and slowly by siblings. As the family grew, Kit could sense the expectations the family had for this 'new generation' and their sense of worry. She could tell something wasn't right but none of that mattered to Kit as she was still treated well.

When Kit turned seven everything changed. She began having incredible sensations, feelings she never felt before. Slowly the sensations grew in scope and intensity: she was attaining her powers. The older she grew the more powerful she became and soon her Grand sat her down for a talk. Kit's grandmother told her she was an empath, capable of hearing others thoughts and feeling others feelings. Grand explained that it was a wonderful gift but she would need to learn to control it. Kit couldn't understand and failed at any attempt to learn her power. For a young child to feel such intense emotions, such as love and hatred, isolated her and caused her to want to have nothing to do with the outside world. As her power grew so did its range until whatever solace she could find in isolation vanished. Kit went into hysterics when she couldn't prevent it from consuming her. She threw tantrums and fits of rage that caused her parents to lock her in her room. She bit and scratched those that came near her and clawed at the ground and walls. When the intensity of her empathy became too much she would pull at her hair, yanking chunks out at a time. Fearful for Kit's life, her parents had her committed to a psychiatric institution.

It was while she was institutionalized that Kit learned to control her power. Feeding off of the incongruous thoughts and emotions of the other patients took its mental toll on Kit. On the verge of a complete breakdown herself, Kit suddenly managed to totally control her power. It wasn't a matter of filtering in or out voices, thoughts or emotions. Kit had, essentially, created an on/off switch. In her despair she had cut all of the thoughts and feelings from permeating her mind. She was alone with her thoughts for the first time in months and liberation she felt was overwhelming.

When the doctors notified her family of the positive development, her parents came and took Kit home. Kit was at first resentful of her parents for committing her but she grew past it to develop a loathsomeness for her entire family. She had always known her family was different from most but they encouraged her to accept the oddity as a gift. Kit's power, her empathy, came from her mother's side of the family. Every family member on her mother's side of the family had some sort of power. They were all taught witchcraft consisting of mastering their powers, writing spells and creating potions. Kit rejected it all, choosing to suppress her power and avoid her Wiccan teachings.

The family was aghast. Kit was the first of a new generation of Halliwell witches. Despite wanting to see how powerful the new generation would be, it was also hoped that Kit would be an example to the children that came after her. Kit became the only Halliwell witch to deny the craft.

At school Kit became an excellent student and excelled at all she attempted scholastically but she was adamant about maintaining a normal life. Never would she allow her friends to come to her home nor would she take time out to spend with her extended family. At school she would avoid and ignore her cousins and barely acknowledged her siblings. After high school she applied for and received a scholarship to attend Cambridge University in England. Eager to distance herself from her family and from her history as quickly as she could, Kit moved to England. When she left San Francisco, it would be the last time she saw or heard from her family; She didn't contact them and they didn't contact her.

"Hey sugar lips," a man's voice called.

Snapped from her thoughts, Kit smacked her lips together to find them covered in sugar from the rim of her drink. She turned around to find piercing blue eyes peering into hers and her heart skipped a beat. She didn't like being enthralled by a man as much as she was with this one but the sheer masculinity he possessed made her weak in the knees.

"I wasn't sure I'd see you tonight," Kit said.

He bent in for a kiss but instead licked the sugar remaining on her lips. She pulled back from him and adored the sight of him for a moment. He was ruggedly built, with broad shoulders and strong arms. Despite this he was also well taken care of, with manicured hands and shapely brows. The vanity of it, which she usually found undesirable, was intoxicating.

"Well I couldn't miss another spectacular performance, now could I?" he said.

His voice was low but tender. Their romance was but a few weeks old but she found herself completely enraptured with him. He was still an enigma to her, knowing only that he was from the States as well and that he dabbled in politics. When pressed for more details he would divert the conversation elsewhere. She would never ordinarily let a man get away with as much but this man was different.

"Turner, come on. I didn't see you out in the audience and believe me, I looked," she said, "Which is fine. Just don't work me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Turner said, "Sorry I'm late. I had a few unexpected loose ends to take care of. My work is on track so I thought I might come down and bask in the glow of another successful performance."

"Well, I appreciate it. It means something to me that you would take some time out from your obviously very busy, busy schedule to tend to me tonight."

"What good is work without a little play?" Turner teased.

Kit grabbed Turner's hand and led him to an alcove in the club with seating for two and a bar table. She shamelessly flirted with him as he droned on about his affiliation with a political group that hoped to make it big soon. What uttered from his lips mattered little in her mind; never had she lusted after someone as she had now. In a bid to cease the meaningless chatter she kissed him mid-sentence. He returned her kiss and they passionately sat alone with each other, a world apart from those around them.

They were snapped back to reality by the sound of Kit's vibrating cell phone on the table. They tried to ignore it but the phone kept buzzing and the vibrations were causing the phone to inch closer to the edge of the table. Finally annoyed at the interruption, Kit moved to screen the call just in time to catch her phone from hitting the floor. The face of her phone had a small screen equipped with Caller ID. One glance at the screen and she quickly answered the call. The call was from "Manor".


	8. Decisions

Terrence Mitchell sat on a makeshift chair that he had built from large rocks that were in his cell. Rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand, he tried to remember exactly how he had gotten here. His young mind tried to comprehend how he could have gotten from his grandmothers house to a darkened cave surrounded by demons in a matter of moments.

He knew that he was in trouble, and he worried about his mother and younger brothers. Mostly, though, he wondered what he had done to deserve this punishment. Why did this masked demon pick him out of all of his family? The abduction wasn't random, this much he knew. The demon shimmered in and focused entirely on Terrence. He screamed out loud, and in a matter of seconds his mom, brothers, and grandparents were there trying to save him. For a moment he thought that he might escape, but then he was here. He was led through a maze of underground tunnels and caves to a small room where a lone man stood looming in the corners.

"Terrence," the man greeted him. The demons that escorted Terrence were dismissed, and they were left alone with the long dancing shadows on the ground.

"How do you know my name?" Terrence asked trying to sound brave.

"I know a lot of things about you," his captor answered. "I know about your father, and how he drank himself into an early grave. I know about the string of men your mother brought in and out of the house. I know how she expected you to call them all 'Dad' and then they were gone."

"Wow," Terrence told him sarcastically, although his knees were shaking. "You must have done some real digging to figure that out. I mean, it's not like that's been an obvious thing since I was like ten!"

At first, silence answered Terrence and then came the cool voice of the man. "I suppose you're right. You're a smart boy. I know that you come from a very powerful line of witches. I know that you were worried that you would never come into your powers until about a month ago, and that in that time you've discovered that you are in fact a very powerful young man."

"So?" Terrence asked, obviously uncertain where this conversation was going.

"You've asked me many questions, young man. Now it's my turn to ask you. Why didn't you tell anyone that your powers were coming alive? What were you trying to hide?"

"N-nothing." Terrence stuttered.

"No? Then why didn't you tell anybody?"

"It's not like it matters!" Terrence replied defensively. "We all have powers, it's not like it's a big deal!"

"I guess not," the man replied. "Unless of course you knew that your powers were controlled by your feelings. And your feelings of anger and hatred made those powers uncontrollable. For instance, that bully that wouldn't leave you alone somehow fell off the balcony at the mall. But of course, it's not big a deal."

The stranger turned his back to Terrence, leaving the young boy to soak in exactly how much he knew.

"What are you getting at?" Terrence asked his voice thin and nervous.

"I can help you."

"Help me what?"

"To control that rage and focus your powers."

"Why would you do that?" Terrence asked suspiciously.

The masked figure turned to face the young man. His long cape caught in the air and twirled around and the light cast an eerie glow on his mask. Terrence caught his breath as he realized the presence of the man in front of him. He stood over six feet tall, his shoulders were broad and powerful, and eyes the color of the stormy sea stared into Terrence's soul through the mask.

"I can show you a whole new world young Terrence. I can bring you to a place where you'll never be bullied, where you'll never be abandoned or lost, where you'll feel no pain or heartache ever again."

"Never?" Terrence asked.

"Never." The voice behind the mask replied certainly.

"I… I don't know. What about my family and my friends?"

"It's a different world, young man. Sometimes you have to sacrifice to achieve the things you truly desire. You have it in you to make the journey; all you have to do is make that call. Think on it, I'll come to see you in a few days."

Terrence felt his arms being grabbed from behind and he was led back through the maze. He was unceremoniously locked into a rough cell dug into a cave wall and forgotten. Food was always available to him when he woke, but he had lost track of the days.

The stranger still hadn't been to visit him, but that was fine because he hadn't really considered what was offered to him. Now, as he sat alone on his chair of rock, he thought about the pros and cons of the stranger's proposition.

Terrence could never remember truly being happy. His father battled a lifelong addiction to alcohol, and eventually his body succumbed to the years of abuse. Terrence watched his father slowly die from liver and kidney failure for three years, from the time he was six until he was nine.

Terrence's mother, Elizabeth, refused to leave him and his younger brothers alone with their father for good reason. He was usually drunk by 10 in the morning when he was home, and his violent temper rocked the house. Terrence watched his mother cower in fear as his father yelled and screamed, until eventually she gathered her boys and left for the afternoon.

When Terrence was eight years old, he got off the bus and walked home. His mother was supposed to be there, but he found himself alone with his father. He couldn't remember where his mother was, but he remembered his father. The man that he called 'Daddy' was sitting on the couch, a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other, and an empty pill bottle on the coffee table in front of him. Terrence stood in the doorway frozen by fear when as he looked on. The scene was no different than he was used to, but even his eight year old senses could feel that something was about to go terribly awry.

"Well, don't just stand there boy." His father slurred. "You're letting the cool air out."

"Yes sir," Terrence answered taking a step further into the house.

"Come over here and sit with me, I want to talk to you."

Terrence didn't want to, but he took little steps towards his father. He shook with fear, and it seemed like an eternity before he stood in front of the man that was causing so much fear in his heart. Terrence suddenly yelped in pain as the sausage like fingers of his father wrapped around his little forearm, pulling him closer.

"I said sit with me boy!" he hollered. The smell of old beer and stale cigarettes was heavy on his breath.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Terrence whimpered.

"Then sit," he growled.

Terrence dutifully did as he was told, and his big brown eyes looked on at the man that was supposed to be his one and only role model and hero.

"It's time you and I had a little talk," he told his son. "I think you're old enough to know the things that I'm gonna tell you… but your momma don't think so. Don't tell her I told you this okay, kiddo?"

Terrence nodded enthusiastically. Finally, he and his dad were going to talk and he was very excited.

"I got a problem, son. See this drink here? This is beer, and I never want you to try it. It's the devils drink." He paused to take a big swig from his brew. "Tastes like dog piss too."

"Don't drink it, Dad!" Terrence cried.

"Yeah," he answered. "I probably shouldn't, but I can't help it. It's a part of me now. It's been a part of me for a long time. I wasn't always like this. I used to be a pretty nice guy. I never yelled or cursed, never."

His eyes seemed distant and he smiled inwardly as he remembered a different time.

"That was a long time ago. The devil lives in me now, and he's gonna get me soon. I'm gonna burn in Hell for the things I done."

"No you won't. You just have to tell Jesus that you're sorry, and then you can go to Heaven!" Terrence told him innocently.

His father laughed cruelly and looked deep into the boy's eyes. "Heaven? There ain't no Heaven! That would mean there would have to be a God… and there ain't no God either! The devil is here, he lives among us, but God abandoned us a long time ago. I'll tell you something else! The devil, he ain't no man… the devil is a woman!"

"A woman?" Terrence had never heard that before.

"Yeah. And that woman is your Momma! She don't want you to know it, but she's the devil! She's a witch, yeah! A real witch Terrence!"

"Mommy isn't the devil, she's just a witch." Terrence said. It really upset him to hear his father call his mother that.

"Well," his father slurred. "If she ain't the devil herself, then she sure is the devils whore!"

"No!" Terrence cried.

"Yeah, she is. She's a regular whore too if you think about it. Didn't you ever wonder why you didn't have my last name boy? You ain't my boy. Your momma, she spread her legs for anybody that came along. She don't even know who your read daddy is. That's why I had to marry her. Nobody else wanted her, and I knew that she would spread her legs to me too!"

Terrence had no idea what his father was saying. He couldn't understand why he was telling him these things, or what his mother's legs had to do with his father marrying her, but he didn't like it.

"You're lying!" Terrence accused. "You're lying and I hate you! I don't care if you're not my real dad because I want you to die!"

"Funny you should say that, boy." His father answered. "That pill bottle right there is empty cause I just took them all. Here soon, you're gonna watch your old man die. That's my payback to your momma for being such a slut."

Terrence ran out of the door because he didn't want to watch his dad die. His face was streaked with tears as he tore out of his driveway on his brand new bike, but he had no idea where he was going, but he didn't want to be anywhere near home. The next thing he remembered was lying in bed at Gramma Paige's house and sipping on hot cocoa while she and his mom argued about something.

Terrence didn't shed a tear at his father's funeral two years later. He dutifully stood next to his mother and held her hand as she cried through the services. Though he was only ten years old, he shook hands with mourners and received gifts of food from guests at the wake. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief as he thought how much better life would be without his father.

He was sorely wrong. Within months, Terrence's mother brought home a string of men. They all smelled like stale cigarettes and liquor like his father did. They usually had greasy hair and yellow teeth. They usually drove big motorcycles and dressed in heavy leather. His mother started leaving them alone at night with nothing but a box of macaroni and half a gallon of milk. He and his brothers called them all dad, and they all eventually left them. Not that Terrence cared; he never liked any of them anyway.

Days after they left, Terrence would find his mother alone in her room crying. His heart always went out to her. Once, he tried to comfort her. He sat at the foot of her bed and patted her gently on the shoulder.

"It's okay, Mom." He told her. "You'll find love again."

"What do you know about love?" She asked him sniffling. "You're thirteen years old. You've never known real love."

"Yes I have," Terrence answered. "I know you have always loved me."

His mother's love. The thought of it wrenched at his soul. That was the only thing holding him back from taking the strangers offer and never looking back. The idea of never having to deal with abandonment and learning to deal with his rage was tempting, but the love of his mother held him back.

He knew that if he did it, he would never see her again, and also risk her love. Could he live with himself if he lost her love? But if she really loved him, could she really quit loving him? But, it could be worth it if he left all of the pain and heartache behind him. Her love wouldn't matter anymore because her love was the only thing that kept him strong through the hard times…. And the hard times would be over. What a huge decision to make.


End file.
